


All For the Boys

by L_FineAu



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Children, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:27:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27526126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_FineAu/pseuds/L_FineAu
Summary: Can Szel escape her tormentor? Can she even survive Under the Mountain? This is the first chapter of 4 in a short fanfic side story. To eventually be continued in the aftermath of the battle with Hybern.
Relationships: Rhysand (ACoTaR)/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 4





	1. Szel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Szel, a human cook/healer is taken by fae captors to Under the Mountain. She finds ways to survive while keeping her mind off her children and home. But, one Hybernian captain has other ideas.

Szel - Part 1

Upon seeing the small band of fae barreling down the dirt road, I have just enough time to push my two boys behind an old abandoned barn as the leader’s keen eyes catch sight of me before I round the corner myself. Holding a finger to my lips and silently begging the twins to stay put and quiet, I back slowly away to the edge of the road.

“Oy, you there. What are you doing out here all alone?” The sentry asks, licking his lips. “Collecting herbs for the and mushrooms for the young master. I work in the infirmary and kitchens for Lord Nivalis just over the hill. He’ll be expecting me back.” I respond hoping he doesn't notice the absence of a basket for gathering and that he might not want to take the trouble for someone who will be missed. Fortunately, fae are spoiled puss wads and have no concept of how to gather anything. Unfortunately, it seems he can’t care less why I’m out on my own, or that I ‘belong’ to someone. I’m easy pickings for abduction, it’s all too common these days.

I’m shoved to the floor of a filthy prison carriage by rough, strong hands that bite into my flesh. Trying not to look back to where my boys are hiding, I do my best to seem calm. My fear will only encourage them to try to “save” me. 

In fact my terror is overwhelming. Idiot! It was witless to wander so far from the manor, but the thought of showing my sons some small aspect of my life before I came to work for Nivalis has been on my mind for months. I had such a fun outing planned for my day off, and they were excited to do something new. The little village where I had lived with my father was quaint and picturesque. The mill was home for me as a girl and became my livelihood as a woman. The boys would have loved it, but I was reckless leaving the lord’s property and now I was paying for it.

Shem and Jerah are smart, they know about the fae’s propensity for stealing humans, for what purpose we didn’t know. They’ll go back to their aunt at the manor and explain what had happened. But, how would I escape these fae? Their senses are too sharp and their disregard for human life is legendary, as my father always warned me. I’m stuck and on my way to who knows where.

Once the jail carriage is out of earshot, I plead, “I’m of no use to you, just a weak human.” Another toad-like member of the crew laughs hoarsely, “You don’t need to be strong to serve in Amarantha’s domain. And we’ll have sport with any human rat.” Then, another shove, and sudden darkness.

✾

I awake in a different cage surrounded by about ten human women of various ages, shapes and sizes. I rub my eyes, sit up as best I can and peer through the bars. 

An almost human looking guard passes by. The fae sentinel catches my eye, tips his head, offers a cruel smile but keeps walking as a few women press to the bars begging to be set free or for food and water. I look to the woman who looks least threatening, “How long have you been here?” I ask, not really wanting to hear the answer.

“I’ve only been here a few days, but those lasses… I think they’ve been here so long they’ve given up.” She points to the back of the cell, where indeed there are three emaciated prisoners slumped against the wall with their heads lolling onto their chests. My fear threatens to bury any sense of reason. I’m never getting out. My children will forget me, I’ll be tortured, a plaything, my life will belong to someone else, if I get to live at all. 

I barely have time to register the scene when the same guard is suddenly standing just outside the bars unlocking the door. Apparently, there is a stark difference between passing by and opening the cell. I watch the women crowd to the farthest corner. Following their lead not daring to give him my back, he stares into my eyes as he approaches. Not the other women, but me. 

Grabbing me by the back of my neck he tugs me out of the door and down the dank hallway. I am just able to keep my feet under me. Tears blur my vision as I do my best not to think of what awaits me. He has shoulder length brown hair that shimmers red in the light, eyes a similar burnt orange and a strong build. “Tears will do you no good, in fact they may spur some fun. Welcome to Under the Mountain.” Then he whispers, “They can’t take away anything from you if you don’t show you have anything to give.”

Gritting my teeth we reach a room that’s hotter than a blacksmith's forge, and I am AGAIN thrown to the floor. “Your new girl! Said she worked in the kitchens where she was.”

✾

“Bout time! Been hard keeping up with the work.” I look up to see who was calling after the departing guard in the most melodious voice I’d ever heard. She is yellow skinned with short horns, about as tall as my youngest son and as round as an ale barrel. Wondering how she can move without rolling, I get to my feet. My gaze catches the guard and he seems to stare with a lingering concern, but I must be imagining it. Fae care nothing for humans. 

“Hope you’re tougher than the last girl. What’s your name? Can’t keep calling you girl.” So strange to see such a lovely sound coming from a being like that. “No need to hope, I am. And I’m Szel.” With a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, the ale barrel huffs and starts to walk toward the ovens and mutters, “Come on then, Szel.” 

There are numerous other fairies and a couple humans bustling through the kitchen each seeming to know exactly what their job is and that if it’s not done correctly the consequences are dire. If I have any hope of getting back to my own life, I need to play along. I follow Ale Barrel until she stops so suddenly near a counter covered in flour I nearly trip over her. She points to the counter which I now notice has all the ingredients I’d need for... “You’ll be making the bread. Make sweet and savory types, she likes a variety.” She directs, cutting off my thoughts and walks away. Oh good “variety.” That’s specific, maybe I’ll be especially heavy on the pepper. I delve into my work, more to keep my mind from spiralling into misery and fear of whoever this “she” is. 

At the end of the day, exhausted and covered in flour, the same guard who dragged me away arrives. He stares at me for a few moments. “Is this better? Better than endlessly sitting in the jail.” He asks. I then realize he actually expects an answer, but I find my tongue to be unresponsive. He looks at me like I’m daft then takes me to a different set of cells. “Servant’s cells. Yours is third on the left.” Is all the explanation I get as I walk into the hall. “Why?” is all I can think to say, and only receive a sad eyed glance in return. The barred door behind me clangs shut and I am again locked in. The cell doors down the hall are open and I can hear muffled sounds coming from some of them. 

My cell is as I would think; dank, dark, cold and glum. About to fall down from fatigue I sit on the thin mattress. Looking around I see nowhere to relieve myself or wash, so I wander out and start down the corridor. People and all kinds of fae look up as I pass, but immediately go back to whatever it was they were doing before. There is a small washroom at the very end of the passage. A bowl of murky water sits on a table, a tin tub sits next to it full of filthy water, and a hole in the floor has been carved in the far corner with the most putrid smell wafting out. I suppose it’s whoever is the meanest gets to clean first, so I decide right then to wait for last. It seems to be in my best interest.

I quickly take care of my business, go back to my pitiful bed and promptly fall asleep. 

The days follow in a similar manner aside from the requirement to wash properly in a separate washroom before going into the kitchens. Lucky for me, nobody wants their food prepared by grungy servants. The same guard, who finally reveals his name, Ruah, retrieves me each day with a word of greeting. I finally thank him for changing my circumstance, as it is an improvement from the prison. 

When I begin to miss my sons, I force myself to think of something else… bread recipes, soup recipes, healing drafts, escape plans, setting “her” on fire. I keep to myself, remain unremarkable, do my best to keep from going mad, become acquainted with no one and constantly look for a way out. Until one day I get noticed.

✾

A different sentinel comes into the kitchens asking after some dessert “she” is particularly fond of. He’s painfully good-looking, scary and clearly important considering his uniform is crimson and gilded in gold. Not to mention the other kitchen help begin to cower, and I’m too late to blend in with them. “You’re a pretty one, why are you stuck in the kitchens? You should be on the main floors for maid duty.”

“I’m sure I’m very plain next to your kind. And it seems my bread is well liked.” _ I can’t be moved, I can’t be seen, I’ll be “toyed with”, I’ll never get out.  _

A vicious grin is the only reply.

I’m hauled away and find myself in a room with two cots this time, and  _ what the fuck, _ I’m surprisingly thrown to the floor. “Wash yourself, bathe yourself and dress. The closet is over there, it all should fit.” I’ll retrieve you in twenty minutes. Be ready, or be skinned.” FIFTEEN minutes later I’m ready.

A rapid knock on the door, and not waiting for me to answer, it opens to reveal the crimson garbed guard. “Come with me and keep your mouth shut.” As if that’s not what I've been doing for two weeks. 

I receive a bucket, broom and feather duster. “Start with this room, mop, dust and move to the next. Ignore the rooms across the hall.” which is exactly what I do. Those who occupy the rooms seem to spend little time in them as they have few belongings and don’t seem to worry that anything will be amiss. Then again it would be suicide to take anything here. 

I don’t come across anyone for awhile. After five rooms I’m passing to the next when Ruah is walking past. He stops short with a look of utter terror, pulls me into the next room and roughly whispers, “What are you doing up here?”

“I was reassigned, evidently. Why, why do you care?” At first I don’t think he’s going to answer. He rubs a hand over his face and sits on the settee situated across from the fireplace. 

“You look just like my sister. In fact when I first passed by your cell, I thought you were her. The resemblance is uncanny. You were supposed to stay unnoticed!” 

“I tried!! I’m not an idiot, and where is everyone?”

“Everyone who resides in these rooms are attending Amarantha in the throne room. You won’t see anyone back here until daybreak.”

“DAYBREAK?” Shit, I’ve been here long enough where I can’t tell day from night. What I thought was morning must be the middle of the night.

“Yes, try to keep up. I can’t do anything more for you. But, just TRY to stay out of sight. If you give any indication of fear they’ll use you for sport. It’s hard to explain but you almost look fae, so you might be able to blend in more easily than the other humans.” With that he gets up, and leaves me to continue cleaning. 

Hours go by and the crimson guard finds me. “Follow me.” Without comment, I follow down the hall, another hall, down a set of stairs and enter a chamber that is not as ornate as the rooms I was just cleaning, but definitely not a servant’s room. It has a large bed in one corner, a few chairs, a settee, a desk, and a bathing room. He shuts the door behind him, as I swirl at the reverberation I find his fist around my neck. Bringing me close to his savage, handsome visage his hot breath skims my face. “Did you think I wouldn’t have some fun with you? You’ll be mine while you’re not serving your purpose. Now, what shall we do?”


	2. Szel Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Szel continues her struggle Under the Mountain. Trying not to think her her lost family and torment she meets someone who can help her... or maybe she can help him.

I go between back-breaking work, eating wherever scraps he gives me, sleeping on the floor and terror. He’s careful, the bruises are in easily hidden places. I block out much of it. I've been through this before, my mind seems to know how to cope. I work myself hard so I will be too exhausted to think of my boys, or think about anything during the day. Then after my time with the crimson guard, I lie down on the floor and keep my sanity by thinking of new and varied ways to end him. I get very creative. 

There is seldom anyone in the hallways as I work, but the folk I do see are usually achingly stunning. Some have red hair, some white. Others have scowls or arrogant smirks. One has a face that’s almost impossibly beautiful with purple eyes, PURPLE eyes, sometimes looks at me with what seems like sadness then apathy. Most often they pretend I’m invisible which suits me just fine.

Days later I’m dusting a table strewn with undoubtedly priceless vases filled with undying blossoms when my crimson guard comes and takes me by the arm. Dragging me as I stumble behind him my stomach is in my mouth, my eyes wide, But, It’s not time yet. I usually can steel myself for the onslaught, I can prepare and go somewhere else in my head. Frantic, even though I have no allies, I look around hoping to see Ruah. Instead I see the purple eyed fae round the corner and catch my gaze. I must look pathetic.

“Hmmm, what’s this little rabbit you caught, Szamar?”

My crimson guard turns to him with a sneer, but his voice shakes just a bit, “High Lord, I’ve decided she’s done for the day.”  
This High Lord’s curious and strange eyes delve into mine, “Delightful, I’ll take it from here. I’m sure you’ll be relieved you don’t have to deal with the riff-raff today. Come on then, rabbit.”

“Of course, Rhysand.” That’s it. That’s all ‘Szamar’ says as a glazed look comes over him and he just walks away.

Alarm wars with satisfaction watching Szamar’s back. But, the panic still crawls over me as I follow this new threat. Am I going from bad to worse?

“Calm yourself. It’s not as bad as all that.”

I walk stiffly through the door he holds open for me and stand in the middle of one of the rooms I’ve cleaned many times now. It’s a very large room with an enormous covered in black silk. The fireplace looks as though it has never been lit, and the rest is finely outfitted, but sparse.

“You’re lucky, you know. Looks like you’ve only been here a couple of months, so you haven’t wasted away to nothing quite yet.”

It would be unwise to say anything, I’d like to keep my bruises to twenty-three. Wait, How does he know how long I’ve been here?

“You’re asking the wrong questions, Rabbit. And, I’m not going to add to your bruise collection. Ask a better question.”

“Can I go back to making bread?” And staying in a prison with the rats.

“Bread? Ah, yes. It was delicious. You’re very talented, so yes you can go back to making bread. However, you’ll stay in the servant’s room reserved for our personal attendants right across the hall. I think you’ll be of more use there. For now, do you think you can make your way back to the kitchens? Good, return to your room at the end of your shift.”

“You realize you just had a conversation with yourself?”

Tapping my temple as he walked by with a wink, “No, I didn’t”

I don't see him for the rest of the day. Everyone in the kitchens acts as though I had never disappeared, and they go about their business. I have never been more relieved to see flour in all my life. Daybreak, I guess, comes and I make my way back to the room the High Lord had indicated.

In my new room, I inspect every inch. It doesn’t take long, there’s a small bed, a chair and a small cramped washroom, a wardrobe with eight of the same dress I’m currently wearing, simple but well made sleep clothes and undergarments. It’s paradise! Not knowing what to expect and with no small amount of apprehension, I wash and change for sleep, then stand in the middle of the room, looking aimlessly at the walls. The door opens and in walks the High Lord. Shit! Shit! I knew it!

“Relax, Rabbit. Just checking to see how you’re settling into your posh accommodations. And before you damage your brain, yes, I know what you’re thinking and I’ve seen what you’ve been through. I find it refreshing to have someone who isn’t a sycophant for anyone. Nothing is going to happen to you from here on out, as long as you do just as you did today. Go make bread, come back here. Simple isn’t it?” I merely nod. “Good, Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good night’s sleep for a change.” With that, he leaves,

I curl up on the bed and weep.

✾

Over the week, unlike before, I’m sure to keep my senses sharp. In the mortal lands, servants are ignored, thought to have no ears, eyes or brain. Here, it is much the same, to them I’m deaf, blind and dumb. There is tension, an air of urgency despite the seemingly festive days above, nobody really wants to be here. They’ll do anything they can to earn favor with the guards. I learn names and personalities. Apparently, my savior is the worst of them. which is at odds with what I know. Each day after my shift he has “checked in” and never once threatened me. I have kept my peace because it’s still too good to be true and one slip up could cause it all to come crashing down. Still, I can’t explain why I’m not afraid of him, and I trust him. This trust doesn’t seem to be common among the fae. One day I decide to ask him about it. 

I wait for his arrival. Like clockwork, he opens the door, strides to the chair, props a foot on a knee and rests his head in his hand. “And, how was your day with flour and yeast, Rabbit?”

“Why does everyone think you’re a monster, and why aren’t you one to me? I know I’m not getting out of here and in a few months it seems everything is going to come to an end. They’ll never let a human go back to her life. I don’t expect you can save me. I just don’t understand why you’ve been trying. It’s futile.” My questions come out in a rush, as if I don’t ask them quickly I’ll lose my nerve, which is true.

“So, you’ve decided to open your ears, have you? I’ll tell you what, you tell me your story, and I’ll tell you some of mine. Deal? Good.” He comments with a twinkle in his purple eyes.

“Stop doing that! And, why do I have to tell you when you can just read my mind? And ‘Some?’” He just stares back at me expectantly. Really, if I want answers, I don’t have a choice. With a sigh...

“There’s not a whole lot to tell, so I’ll make it brief. I’m an only child born to a miller in a small village. I was bullied my whole life for having a mother who left, for wanting to take over for my father and not being interested in finding a husband. My father passed, so I ended up running the mill, but I was a spinster at thirty, nobody would even come close to me other than for something unmeaningful and temporary, which was honestly all I wanted. My aunt, who worked for a lord near our village tried to lure me into working for him, but I wasn’t interested. I liked the peace of milling, baking and occasionally healing those brave enough to ask.

“Then one day a man who named himself Kutya was in the market where I was selling my goods. He charmed me, nine months later came my twins, Jerah and Shem. I told myself I let it happen because he was different, but I knew better. I think I was tired of being on my own, I just wanted them. My children are everything to me. After that, nobody wanted anything I had to sell. I wound up begging my aunt for that position she offered.

“Lord Nivalis was cruel to me but tolerated my boys, and he gave us a place to live. He wants to take them on as wards, maybe to ensure he has some heirs nearby in case he doesn’t marry.

“Then, a few months ago I was taking Jerah and Shem to see the mill where I grew up and was abducted, and now I’m here.” As I finish my story, tears well and I try to keep my mind off my sons.

“You miss them.” His eyes are soft and searching.

“If I think about them too much, I can’t breath. They’re my world, and I left them. Not by choice, but the outcome is the same.” Not wanting to see the pity in his eyes, “Ok, your turn, and my name is Szel by the way, not rabbit.” For a long while he just watches me. Finally…

“Rhysand, Rhys. Call me Rhys when it’s just us. High Lord when anyone else is around.

And with a sparkle in his perfect eyes, “For me there is too much to tell, so I’ll make it brief.

“Humans fascinate me, their resilience despite their short lives is unparalleled. I fought in the war side-by-side the humans, you know. Anyhow, most of us are trapped down here by Amarantha, same as you. There are some exceptions, of course. Szamar, for one, is a lackey for the sick fuck who sent Amarantha here in the first place. I suppose he quite enjoys it along with some others.

“Although the rest of us were tricked and bound by a curse, I imagine you were simply captured. I’ve been down here fifty years, aside from an excursion or two. In about a week it becomes permanent, unless a human claims to love an old enemy of mine. I know, I know it’s all so very fairy. So I’m doing what I can to keep going, and helping you is least I can do to make up for, well, everything. And if I tell you any more, I’ll have to wipe your mind, so you’ll have to make do with that.”

He sits gazing across the room, I know he has more, much more to his story. But, he’s right, I don’t need to know why he is how he is. I’m just thankful he’s not a monster, and I actually feel sorry for him. Wait... “Permanent??”

“I’m so sorry, Szel. You’re acute hearing didn’t catch onto that tid-bit?”

I crumple to the floor, but really, I knew I was never getting out, I just hadn’t had anyone else say it. “I already told you I knew I wasn’t going anywhere, but it’s different when you hear it out loud.”

“That it is.” Then, we just stare at nothing for a long while. And it actually feels good to have a comfortable commiserating silence.

And so it goes for another few days. He checks on me, although not as regularly as that first week and at times he is sad, and so am I. We still chat, about nothing, about my life prior to all this. He asks about my boys and smiles. He divulges some of how he’s survived, and it’s chilling. He’s kind and good, and I think he may be in just as much pain as I am, and I want to help him. But, what can I do?

A week later, I enter Rhysand’s room to clean it, and he’s there sitting on the bed with his head in his hands looking down at the floor. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to be here, I’ll come back later.”

“NO!” He almost yells it, and I startle. “Sorry, rabbit, I mean to say it’s fine, carry on.”

“Is everything ok, that is, as ok as it can be?” He takes a long moment before answering, as though he’s frightened of what will come out, then it’s like flood gates open.”

“Truth? No, yes, maybe, but most likely not. There’s a human here, Feyre, I know her… of a sort. She hates me, I mean really hates me, she needs to hate me, I need to keep her hating me. She can break this curse, but she might die trying, and I have to try to keep her alive, I need to keep her alive.”

Gaping at him with a stupid open mouthed expression, I gather my wits and simply say, “What can I do?”

✾  
This poor girl. She can’t be more than twenty years old and she’s bruised, beaten and heartbroken. Rhys asked me to stay out of the dungeons, “Just keep going the way you have been, I’ve got this.” 

But, I can’t stay away. She must be only a handful of years older than my boys. Even with all the chatter and excitement about the girl’s arrival, it takes me the majority of an hour to ferret out where she’s being held. When I peer into her filthy cell, she’s curled up on the cot, bleeding. I gently rap on the window bars.

“Hello, I can’t stay, but I’ve brought some water and bread.” I whisper as I pass a canteen of water and the small loaf I managed to bake alongside the much larger ones from the morning. She gets up on unsteady legs and slowly walks to the door. Her nose is at a strange angle and I can barely tell the shade of her skin from the bruising.

“Thank you. You’re human? I thought I was the only one.” Her answer is hoarse and strained, but she greedily drains the canteen.

“Yes, I’m human. I’ll try to get food and water to you as often as I can. I have some skill as a healer too, so I’ll try to bring a poultice as well.” I turn to leave, I’ve been missing too long already. But…

“Wait! What is your name?” Pleading gray eyes peer at me.

“Szel.”

✾

I am able to sneak my small bread loaves and water the next day as well along with a poultice made from herbs and vinegar. Each of these nights Rhys asks me how she’s doing, what she looks like, what we talk about. 

“We don’t discuss much, I just don’t have time. She said a spring court member named Lucien helped her with her injuries.”

“Ah, little Lucien, If he gets caught there’ll be Hell to pay. Thank you Szel.” He says softly when he exits. And I realize that he called me by my name.

I can’t manage to see Feyre, nor do I see Rhys for days. When I finally manage to dodge prying eyes long enough to bring her water, she’s sitting on her cot and mad as a badger, staring at her arm covered with black swirling marks.

“Feyre, What's that!?!?”

“Mark of a bargain. Courtesy of that prick, Rhysand. I’m to spend a week per month in the Night Court IF I get out of here.”

“Ah, yes… I’ve heard he can be... difficult?” To hide what I know to be true about Rhys I rush to ask, “What will you do when we get out?” From there our conversation turns to hopeful dreams and fantasies. Of course, it’s brief as it always must be, but I do hope that I bring Feyre some hope or peace.

This particular night Rhys enters my room with a bit of a smirk. “So, I imagine you’ve been to see Feyre by now? What fascinating things did you discuss.”

“Oh, you know, she mentioned a high lord prick who tattooed her, which I doubt you’re going to elaborate on, then we swapped brief visions of what we’re going to do when we get out of here. She seems to really love this Spring Court Lord.” I give him a pointed look with that last sentence.

“Yes, it does seem so. And that bargain… I suppose I like the idea of seeing her again.” His smile transforms to one so sad and his eyes are just on the verge of spilling over when I realize… “You’re... you love her!”

His eyes snap to mine and are suddenly dry. “I wouldn’t repeat that again if I were you.” His words seem ominous, but his gaze is understanding and soft while he stands and leaves.

✾

I know it’s stupid to go there again, but I just want to check on her. She’s sleeping when I peek in, so it’s a very quick visit. I’m turning the last corner before ascending the steps and run straight into the crimson guard. My stomach drops to my feet while I try to come up with a plausible explanation for why I’m leaving the dungeons. 

“Well, hello. I suppose you’re cleaning the dungeon cells now? No, no, I know exactly what you’ve been about these past weeks. I've been waiting for this.” His mocking glare sends icy dread down my spine as I’m taken by the neck and dragged up, up, up and into a huge room. The throne room, I realize, with a few fae milling about. It must be before they congregate, but I can tell who is up on the dais. Her bored look still doesn’t wipe the cruelty from her face, with her red hair, nails and lips. The red I see at times on Rhys’ shirts. And I glimpse one of those stains as he takes a step from behind her throne. The wide-eyed look he wears disappears as quickly as it came.

Her voice is deceptively sweet, “Szamar? What do you have? Another one of those creatures? Why? I’m bored of them.”

“Found her helping the one in the dungeons. If I may, I want to keep it. I’m in need of a pet.”

And suddenly, Rhys is in my head. “Szel. Don’t react. Tell them you were just curious, nothing more. You took a look, was disgusted and left.”

“I was only curious. But when I looked in she was so wretched, that I just left her there.” I claim, knowing full well that it’s never going to work. Amarantha gives a lazy wave of her hand, “Go ahead Szamar, have fun if you want to keep it, but first I want to know what it did for Feyre. Rhysand?”

Rhys looks at me with a bored mask on his lovely face. “I’m not going to hurt you, you’ll be fine. Just put a blank stare on your face.” His voice reverberates through my mind, but I know what will happen to me when Szamar takes me away. I was taken from him once, he won’t stop hurting me until I’m dead. For now, I do as Rhys asks and let my features go slack.

“She’s rather spineless, just wanted to see the girl out of some morbid curiosity. This is also the one that makes that sweet bread you like.” I know he’s trying to help. I also know it won’t work.

Szamar is getting restless. “Let me take her now. Please? I have such lovely plans.”

We’re dismissed with another wave of her hand, and Szamar picks me up like a sack and starts to walk toward the corridor to his room.

“Please, please.” I beg in my mind through my tears. “Please Rhys, end it. He’ll kill me slowly, painfully.”

“No, there’s still time, Feyre can do this. And your boys need you.”

“PLEASE!” I scream aloud, “I'LL BE DEAD ALREADY!”

On the floor of Szamar’s room through the pain I know that I’m dying, and I can only think of my Jerah and Shem. Their faces laugh while they run through the fields behind the manor, saying my name, “Momma, Momma!” I know they’ll be ok, their aunt will take care of them. And, I’m so tired of feeling scared and weak.

Then I can feel Rhys’ sorrow in my head, and I feel almost honored that he feels grief for me, that someone down here is good. So I ask him again to please end it, and I tell him that it’s not his fault, I tell him to stay with Feyre, that I hope he finds what he is looking for and that he deserves her. I hear him say, “I’m sorry, so sorry.”

Then nothing more.


End file.
